


Taking Root

by mooglecharm (morphaileffect)



Series: The Set-up [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M, Political Expediency, Politics, Short, This was supposed to be pure fluff from start to end, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26835505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morphaileffect/pseuds/mooglecharm
Summary: A noble family from Tenebrae hints to Ravus that something bad may happen to Ignis if he doesn't go along with their plans.Ravus takes the hints to heart.
Relationships: Ravus Nox Fleuret/Ignis Scientia
Series: The Set-up [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930120
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Taking Root

**Author's Note:**

> THIS STARTED OFF AS A ROMANTIC COMEDY. I DID NOT MEAN TO ANGST.
> 
> But [mochatrope](http://mochatrope.tumblr.com) introduced me to a beautiful cover of Leona Lewis' ["Bleeding Love" by Stephen Scaccia](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KmeiMzPB9QI), and this installment came into being.
> 
> So it's her fault, really :D
> 
> Initially wanted this to fill the "duty" square for [Igtober](https://twitter.com/i_s_e_b/status/1305624604300386304), but was a day late T_T Then I realized - the "duty" part of this fic strictly refers to Ravus. So...I'm not so much "late" as I am "not in time for anything" :D :D

After being pestered almost daily for an audience for weeks, Ravus eventually relented and set up a meeting with Rhodeus, the 46-year-old third son of the Chrysantheme family.

But he made sure it would take place discreetly, in a minor hall in the Citadel. No retinue. No fanfare. No press. And not much time to talk.

And if the Chrysantheme clan felt offended by that, they could shove off back to Tenebrae.

He was almost disappointed when Rhodeus accepted. He had been looking forward to having a little extra free time. Ignis had said he was going to be home early.

He just supposed that whatever the Chrysantheme family had to say, he could hear it out, say “no” firmly, and get them out of his hair.

He had no idea why the clan wanted to talk to him anyway. As far as he knew, they had no special interest or advocacy that set them apart from any other Tenebraean noble family. And if they wanted to speak on behalf of _all_ the noble houses of Tenebrae, they would have sent the _first_ son, arrived with a message of endorsement from the other clans...and would have addressed it to Luna, not to him.

And they wouldn’t have agreed to a secret meeting.

The Chrysantheme family was ever a cog in the precariously balanced wheel on which Tenebraean politics turned. Formerly fierce enemies of both Niflheim _and_ the Oracle’s bloodline, they suffered defeat in battle against the Oracle’s forces, and were co-opted as retainers sometime during Ravus’ great-grandmother’s time.

Retainership was forced upon them, though they had chosen exile. The Chrysantheme patriarch had committed suicide in disgrace, leaving his heirs to negotiate the terms of subservience.

It wasn’t that long ago, upon reckoning. The wounds must still be fresh.

He found Rhodeus waiting in the meeting hall, and confirmed from the hatred in the older man’s eyes that the decades-old resentment was still there.

Good. Anger was an emotion Ravus could work with.

“Lord Ravus,” the man greeted, drawing out the “s” in his name.

Though nowhere near him in appearance, he reminded Ravus of Imperial Chancellor Izunia, that oily snake.

“Let’s skip the formalities, Lord Rhodeus,” Ravus greeted back, as he took his seat at the head of the long table. “I have other engagements.”

“Of course.” The older man chose to sit at Ravus’ right, then looked right into his eyes and smirked.

Disrespectful prick.

“First,” Rhodeus began, “I wish to request that you meet me today not as a representative of Lucis, but of Tenebrae.”

Ravus frowned.

“Tenebrae is under Lucian protection,” he reminded Rhodeus. “I serve Tenebraean interests by representing Lucis.”

“I understand, Lord Ravus. But I cannot proceed unless I have your word that you hear me out as a son of Tenebrae - the _first_ son of Tenebrae - and will not report on what we discuss to the Lucian crown.”

This sounded serious.

Possibly treacherous.

“You have my word,” Ravus said.

Satisfied, Rhodeus leaned back into his seat.

“You must have heard,” he proceeded to say, “that the nobles of Tenebrae are seeking to declare independence from Lucis.”

Of course Ravus had heard. Insomnian diplomats to Tenebrae had said it wasn’t exactly a secret. There was some discontent about Tenebrae remaining a Lucian protectorate. Certain individuals in noble employ even took to the streets to raise public sympathy, demanding to know _why_ Tenebrae had agreed to be protected by Lucis, when Lucis had failed them so many times in the past.

But at the same time, some nobles _wanted_ to stay under Lucian protection. Their sentiment was: after so long under Niflheim rule, the extremely fractured nation of Tenebrae wasn’t capable of governing itself. Lucian rule was better than none.

Besides, why set up a new monarchy, when their Oracle was already established in the Lucian throne as Queen? That at least assured that their nation would always be in favorable standing with the Crown.

“They are not unique in this,” Ravus interrupted. “Nor would they be the first, if they decide to proceed. An independent nation of Solheim already looks to rise in the West.”

“Yes,” Rhodeus acceded. “But perhaps you don’t know yet that our plans may come to fruition within the next three years.”

Three years - if true, it was sooner than Ravus’ intelligence operatives had projected. The noble houses of Tenebrae were in a shambles after the fall of Niflheim, with loyalties scattered to the winds.

They were realistically looking at another decade to get their act together, at least.

“For that to happen, we will need a king,” Rhodeus continued. ”And the people of Tenebrae won’t accept anyone but the blood of the Oracle in power.”

Ah.

Ravus saw it now, why the Chrysantheme family sought to talk to _him_ , not to Luna:

“With a king at your helm,” Ravus pronounced, “it may indeed be possible to establish a monarchy in three years.”

...Especially if said monarch was the brother of the Queen of Lucis. It would effectively be a coup against Insomnia.

Rhodeus brightened. “You see, don’t you? A monarch would quickly unite the noble houses, not to mention the populace.”

“And you cannot find this monarch among yourselves?”

Rhodeus flashed a sly smile. “Why should we bother,” he said acidly, “when the gods have already blessed Tenebrae with a very old, very powerful bloodline?”

Ravus sat silently after this. So In a lower, more forceful tone, Rhodeus continued:

“Think of it - under Niflheim, you were little more than a figurehead, a noble in name alone. A star in your sister’s shadow. You owned nothing. Commanded nothing. But if we break away from Lucis now...you could be king. With an adoring nation at your feet.”

His tone meant to flatter. It was almost comical, how he imagined Ravus had a side to him that responded to toadying.

“There is also the matter of...succession.” Rhodeus leaned forward, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You may have none of the magic wielded by your mother, gods grant her rest, but you still carry her blood. Your progeny may inherit her magic. Will you prevent the Oracle’s power from coming home to benefit her people, if that is its fate?”

He had to be kidding. Was he seriously expecting Ravus to continue the Nox Fleuret bloodline? Didn’t all of Eos hear some months ago that Ravus and Ignis had issued a joint public statement regarding the status of their relationship?

Were the Chrysanthemes and their cohorts _that_ stupid?

(They didn’t know about Ravus’ magic, which was fair - no one living knew about it, except for Lunafreya. Not even Ignis knew.)

“Though you are young yet, my lord,” Rhodeus said in a tone that edged close to mocking. “It shouldn’t be a concern.”

Ravus grunted.

“If you think my ambitions can be easily manipulated, you have sorely misjudged me.” Ravus stood. “We’re done here.”

Rhodeus got to his feet hastily. “My Lord, will you abandon Tenebrae?” he asked Ravus, in a louder voice.

Ravus, on his way to the door, stopped walking.

“Maybe you didn’t hear me say it the first time, Chrysantheme,” he said, without turning. “It is because I have Tenebrae’s best interests in mind that I stay near the Crown.”

“If you truly had Tenebrae’s best interests in mind, you would come home and _unify us_.” Rhodeus strode around the table to approach him again. “It is a task for which you alone, my lord, are suited. But clearly, you are bound here by something for which you have greater love than the motherland. One guesses it’s your love for your sister. Or perhaps...for your consort?”

Rhodeus didn’t even have to say his name. Angrily, Ravus turned.

“Is that the wrong word to use?” Rhodeus kept going. “Should it be...lover? Friend? Toy?”

In a few strides, Ravus reached the older man, grabbed the front of his robes, and pinned him back against the long table.

Momentarily shocked, fear overtook the smug expression on Rhodeus’ face. He held up his hands to try and push Ravus away, but lacked the strength.

“That is the last time you speak ill of him,” Ravus whispered. “The next time you do so, I will slit your throat.”

He couldn’t carry a sword in public anymore. Only the Crownsguard were allowed to. The decommissioning of weapons was to emphasize Lucis’ commitment to peace.

But Ravus knew that nearly everyone who had experienced battle during the Empire’s reign still carried around a hidden weapon of some sort.

Ravus certainly did: a dagger concealed in his Tenebraean jacket.

He never issued empty threats.

“I-I’ve overstepped my bounds,” the older Chrysantheme whimpered. “I apologize.”

Ravus released Rhodeus with a shove. He fell back against the table, catching his breath.

But apparently, breathlessness was not enough to silence him.

“I would be remiss, my lord, if I did not make myself clear...” Rhodeus groaned as he struggled to get back on his feet. “He is Lucian. He has never been anything _but_ Lucian. More loyal to his King than anyone else. Even to you, my lord. When destiny draws you homeward, will you be able to leave him behind?”

Ravus had heard enough. It was clear now that the Chrysantheme family had sent this envoy specifically to provoke Ravus into some kind of action, something they could manipulate to their ends.

For example, if he caused real bodily harm to Rhodeus now - or, gods forbid, lost control and killed him - they could spin it into an act of war. Then they could band together and rise up against the Crown. Against Luna.

And if he expressed interest in their proposal, they would immediately mobilize, with him at the center of their plans.

He had made his answer clear, or so he thought. Ravus made up his mind to walk away from that pointless encounter for good.

“I came to you with an offer, Lord Ravus,” Rhodeus called out after him. “Please think it over. We will be waiting for your response.”

With a final growl of annoyance, Ravus decided to ignore him.

It was the Chrysanthemes’ problem if they couldn’t take no for an answer.

***

Ravus wasted no time. Acting on a feeling of dread he could not as yet explain to himself, after his meeting with Rhodeus, he drove straight to the home of a member of Insomnia’s diplomatic corps to Tenebrae - a woman named Cassia.

She was a younger member of the Rapiere family, which was loyal to the Nox Fleurets. Cassia Dela Rapiere was someone whom he knew he could trust.

He told her about his exchange with Rhodeus Chrysantheme, made her promise to keep it secret. An international incident was bound to arise if news of it ever reached the Lucian throne.

(Luna and her husband would be forced to meddle in local affairs in Tenebrae...and this was the best case scenario. If other entities loyal to Lucis heard of it, they might decide to take matters into their own hands and be decidedly unsubtle in dealing with the plotting nobles.)

Thankfully, Cassia immediately understood the need for discretion.

However, the implications of the exchange with Rhodeus Chrysantheme alarmed her, and she told Ravus so.

“His last words, my lord, were ominous,” she explained. “It seems they seek to involve you in their plans, one way or another. I fear they will resort to subterfuge to either destroy you or secure your cooperation.”

“Subterfuge,” Ravus thoughtfully echoed. “What do you think they are capable of?”

Cassia frowned as she took a sip of the tea she had prepared for their meeting. “The Chrysantheme family alone - not much. But if we consider the other noble houses in their network, there’s no telling. They may spread rumors - ruin your reputation with the Crown.” She glanced up at him. “The Queen will of course defend you. But the fact remains, Lord Ravus, that you and she are outsiders in Insomnia. And she may well fall prey to the right kind of rumors, if they are vicious enough.”

Rumors. Ravus huffed. He had already survived a particularly nasty round of rumors. He was confident he could survive more. They were just words - no threats at all.

And if he could weather rumors, he had no doubt Luna could, too.

“They are not likely to stop at rumors, though,” Cassia insightfully went on. “They could use your name - send out pretend ‘loyalists’ to the Oracle’s bloodline who will instigate violence and chaos, with the aim of installing Ravus Nox Fleuret as king of Tenebrae. You could denounce them, but well-executed measures for disinformation and social division may create an army of extremists who will be difficult to placate or ignore. You may be backed into a corner, so that you are forced to take one side or another - accept the throne, or lead Lucian efforts in quelling dissent.”

By this, she meant Ravus would lead a Lucian army into Tenebrae, to attack _his own people_ \- people who would clamor for his ascension as king.

It was a possibility that didn’t seem so remote to Ravus, now that he heard it from Cassia’s lips - still, one that must be avoided at all costs.

“Are the noble houses that greedy?” Ravus asked. “They would risk so many lives just to centralize power?”

Cassia shrugged. “Where evil sees rich soil, my lord, evil takes root,” she answered.

An old Tenebraean saying. One that Sylva Via Fleuret had been fond of telling her children. _Stay strong as steel, my loves,_ she used to say to them. _Evil feeds on power, and it may try to enter your veins._

“Another thing I fear,” Cassia Dela Rapiere continued, “is that they’ve made a covert threat against Ignis Scientia’s life.”

Ravus broke out of his thoughts at the sound of Ignis’ name.

“What do you mean?” he demanded. “Rhodeus made no such threat. And I made it clear to him that I would tolerate nothing of the sort.”

Cassia shook her head. “They did not need to be explicit. There was mention of your ‘consort’. This tells me that the Chrysanthemes, at the very least, have him in their sights. They could harm him - or, if they are brutal enough, dispose of him.”

The words poured over Ravus like cold water. He should have recognized the threat. But he had let his annoyance at Rhodeus cloud his perception.

Ignis would have known it for what it was at once. Shot it down immediately. If he had been present.

“The goal would be to unbalance you,” Cassia elaborated. “To either use him, or get him out of the way. They see him as your weakness.”

“He is no one’s weakness,” Ravus interjected. “He isn’t weak. If they try anything on him, they will fail.”

But that sounded feeble, even to himself. Mainly because he had said it with such force.

As if he was desperate to convince himself it was true.

Cassia tilted her head, sympathy writ clear on her face.

“I fear, my lord,” she pronounced, “that they see correctly. At this time, he’s a liability. If you wish for him to be safe...you know what must be done.”

***

It was already late when Ravus emerged from Cassia’s residence.

He had been graciously offered a meal, but he ate little. His mind raced from all the things he learned that day.

In his preoccupation, he had forgotten that he last corresponded with Ignis to say he would be home in time for dinner. That was early in the afternoon, before he met with Rhodeus.

So when he finally remembered to take out his phone, as he was making his way to his car, there were two missed calls and three texts from Ignis.

_4:13 PM_

_Home. No need to rush back. Making stew._

_6:25 PM_

_What time should I expect you?_

_7:54 PM_

_Had dinner. Hope you’ve eaten._

Texts were tricky things. He understood their usefulness, but generally disliked them. Ravus could never tell what tone of voice the texter was using. Especially when they used those newfangled things called “emojis,” those were always confusing...

He felt marginally better about phone calls. At least with phone calls, he could gauge one’s voice. He’d have an idea if Ignis was angry that he’d missed dinner. Or just disappointed. Or completely fine.

But he didn’t feel like calling Ignis right now.

He put his phone away, and decided he didn’t feel like going home just yet, either.

Cassia’s residence was in a less populated part of Insomnia, somewhere near a lot of greenery. And the weather was good for a walk.

Since he was a child, being alone served him well when he was upset. Taking a walk in the woods around Fenestala Manor, alone, helped him to clear his head and make sense of his thoughts.

There was beauty in Insomnia. But it wasn’t Tenebrae. It wasn’t sunlight through the treetops, birdsong in branches, the feel of new grass underneath bare feet. It wasn’t where his mother and old friends were buried. Where he’d taken his first steps, said his first words.

The magic here lay quiet, muted. Hoarded, even: concentrated on the Citadel and its minions. A relic, from the centuries when a Wall was needed.

The Crown City was cold. And it wasn’t home.

What would it be like to be back in Tenebrae, he wondered, after being away from it for so long? Would the grass feel different under his feet? Would the trite concerns of the noble families there feel smaller, now that he had been to all corners of the world - or would it finally become intolerable?

Would he actually make a difference there...if he came back to rule?

Would the memories of his childhood surround him? Would it be easier for him to remember his mother’s face, what her embrace felt like? Would birds still sing in the branches, magic emanate from the smallest seed, the palest flower?

Would it still be “home,” without Luna or Ignis there?

***

When Ignis said “Welcome home,” he sounded tired, worried.

He didn’t sound angry at all...which Ravus realized he had been hoping for.

If he had been angry, he would not have leaned in for the kiss they had quietly decided they would greet each other with, whenever one of them came home later than the other.

And Ravus would not have turned his head and avoided it.

Ignis stepped back, looking surprised and a little hurt. He touched Ravus’ arm.

“Is something wrong?” he asked. “What happened today?”

Ravus simply shook his head, refusing to meet Ignis’ gaze. Ignis waited, but there was no reply.

Finally, Ignis let go.

“There’s still some stew in the pot,” he said quietly.

Then he turned and walked away.

 _A quick break is best,_ Cassia had advised. _Hurt feelings are unavoidable. But once you’ve plunged the dagger in, it would be cruel to twist it, or to leave it in too long_.

It was ludicrous, he had said to her. What they discussed was largely speculation. The Chrysanthemes and their cohorts might have nothing planned - and Ignis was probably nowhere in their sights.

No one would dare touch the principal adviser to the King of Lucis. Not the one who had seen him through thick and thin, who loved him like a brother. Lest they bring the wrath of the entire Kingdom of Light down on Tenebrae.

_And what if they’re able to disguise their involvement, or pin it on someone else?_

Then there would be chaos. The sort of chaos that he was not certain the Chrysanthemes and their cohorts were capable of generating, much less effectively managing.

Cassia had grunted. It had seemed more like a condescending chuckle. From a more knowledgeable noble to her clueless peer.

_You may be right, my lord. We shouldn’t act until our operatives can unearth more information._

Yet Cassia kept going on about how some Tenebraean nobles, the Chrysanthemes included, were dead-set on establishing a new monarchy. Their involvement of Ravus was a new development, but still in keeping with their patterns of underhanded behavior.

(And Ravus had been aware that if “other entities loyal to the Crown” had known about the Tenebraean families’ plot, they would take matters into their own hands, try to resolve it themselves.

(Those “entities” included Ignis.

(He must never know.)

Ravus realized just then that he had spent the entire latter part of his day convincing himself that his fears were unfounded...that despite the evidence, there was no danger looming over himself or Ignis. Especially Ignis.

The problem was, he recognized danger. He knew it by smell. By the intonations of its oily voice, as it tried to flatter and vex him into doing what it wanted.

It took effort to ignore all of it.

And he realized that he would not have gone this far for anyone else.

He was exhausted.

He showered, dressed for sleep, then shut himself in his room. He could hear Ignis going about his routines outside his door.

He lay in bed, looking absently out the window, waiting to fall asleep.

An hour or so of that, and he decided it was pointless. He sat up, on the edge of the bed.

Covered his face with his hands.

 _Tomorrow will be better._ He wanted someone to tell him that.

He wanted someone to tell that to.

And just as he thought that, he heard a knock on the door.

“May I come in?” It was ridiculous to ask. The door was unlocked and they were the only two people there.

So Ravus didn’t answer. And Ignis opened the door, walked in, brow furrowed and steps slow.

He stopped beside Ravus and just stood there, uncertain what to say.

Ravus sat, head bowed, not even acknowledging his presence.

Ignis reached out a hand tentatively. Brushed a lock of hair to the back of Ravus’ left ear...away from the small Altissian silver cuff on that ear that Ravus never took off, not for anything.

“I don’t know what might have taken place,” Ignis softly said, “or what I’ve done.”

There was pain in that comforting voice. Ravus closed his eyes against it.

“But I’m here to listen. If you won’t tell me what hurts you...at least tell me what you want.”

_When destiny draws you homeward, will you be able to leave him behind?_

It hurt. Like hell.

But Ravus couldn’t say it.

This must be the first time Ignis saw him in this state. Surely he would leave him now. Surely, after all the annoying little dictatorial habits Ravus had displayed over months and months of living together, this was the last straw.

Ignis let out a small, barely perceptible breath, and turned to leave.

Ravus found himself reaching out.

Drawing Ignis close to him.

Ignis registered surprise at first, but did not step back. He laid his hands on Ravus’ shoulders, drew him even closer.

Ravus rested the side of his head against Ignis’ stomach. Wrapped his arms around Ignis’ waist.

And he finally figured out what it was what he wanted:

“Lie with me,” he whispered.

As the words left his lips, Ravus thought: what a curious phrase. In Lucis, it meant only one thing: lie here, beside me.

But it meant so many other things in Tenebrae. Sex was just one of them.

It sometimes meant _Share my burdens._ Or _Let me share your burdens._

And sometimes it meant _I won’t leave while you’re here._

Ignis might not have known which meaning it was that Ravus invoked. Ravus hardly knew it, himself.

Ravus led him into bed. They lay together, holding on to each other, into the early hours of the morning, sliding in and out of sleep.

“Tomorrow will be better,” Ravus muttered, half to himself.

Ignis, half-asleep, not knowing anything of what transpired on Ravus' end that day, faintly replied, “Of course. We’ll be all right.”

**Author's Note:**

> Small sketch for the last scene [here](https://mooglecharm.tumblr.com/post/630682036975419392/you-know-what-fuck-it-its-been-a-hard-day).
> 
> May be taking a break from this series to work on other fics, so this is the last installment for this series for a while. Hopefully we'll come back to the happy fluffy in the next installment. Here's hoping! ^_^v


End file.
